no hell had ever burned so sweet
by 3rdgymbros
Summary: "But Kacchan, saving people is what heroes do. And I'm not a hero. Neither are you. We abandoned that title a long time ago, remember?"


" _He was beautiful in a way_

 _deadly things always are."_

* * *

Kendou finds him in the morning, poring thoughtfully over his collection of notebooks. He's spread them out on his desk; there are only a few blank pages left in his latest one, and he's managed to add an entry or two about some upcoming heroes who have managed to catch his eye. Soon, the book itself will need to be changed, and maybe he'll write more in it, when all he sees is his own writing.

"I've got news, boss." She says by way of greeting, waving a sheath of newspapers about in the air.

Izuku lets out a noncommittal hum, studying the auburn haired girl as she strides into the room. Exhaustion from pulling an all-nighter drags at him like wet winter clothes after a swim. The king-sized bed had felt _empty_ , _wrong_ , without Kacchan in it beside him, and he hadn't felt like crawling into a bed that was far too big for him and attempting the farce of sleeping.

Not that they've been doing much sleeping as of late.

Even in the bedroom, Kacchan had an improper tongue. Hearing those sweet, filthy words pouring out of his mouth was always a turn-on, and he'd come right on the spot, with only Kacchan's hot mouth wrapped around his dick. Surprisingly receptive, Kacchan had mercilessly exploited his weakness; taunting him with all the things he planned to do to Izuku once they were alone, unravelling Izuku with both his words and body whenever they kissed and touched and fucked – though not always in bed.

" _Boss."_

 _How persistent._ But Kendou's voice is enough to clear the lust fogging up his mind.

The mantle of responsibility falls hard back onto his shoulders. Izuku takes Kendo in with tired, lidded eyes, his expression giving nothing away. He might be running on fumes, but his mind is as alert as ever, going full speed with his observations.

 _She's wearing makeup and perfume. Subtle, smells like vanilla and marigolds. The jacket's new, she bought it last week. Her boots are a little too tight; they're pinching her toes on the left foot. The dress is low-cut and flashy; she's planning to go out for some_ fun. _Her mouth is turned down at the corners, her eyebrows are drawn together._

"Bad news, _hm_ ~?"

There's a statement behind the honey-laced question, and Kendou _knows_ it. Tension pinches her freckled cheeks and rapidly drives the colour from her complexion. Izuku studies her all the while, a specimen under the microscope.

He waits.

Her expression closes and darkens. "It's Bakugou. He's . . ."

The very name chases wishes of sleep from his head and battles the exhaustion back to the periphery of his mind.

" _What about Kacchan?"_

Rage eats at his calm. His anger burns brightly. He knows that Kacchan's more than capable of looking after himself, but his childhood friend has been the only constant in his life, and Izuku _knows_ , without a shadow of a doubt that he'd kill anyone who dared to lay a finger on _his_ Kacchan.

"It's Bakugou," Kendou says again, almost ruthlessly calm and unperturbed by the dark anger colouring his voice. She's one of the few people who aren't put off by his volatile mood swings, and talks to him freely, without fear of any repercussions. She can lift twice Izuku's body weight and works harder than anyone to make sure the underlings aren't causing any unnecessary trouble and drawing too much attention. Izuku's grateful to have her around. "The pro-heroes caught him. He's under heavy guard now, but our intel says he'll be transferred to a maximum-security prison in approximately three hours."

"Ah." As if a switch has been thrown, Izuku relaxes and grins at Kendou. "Well, that's fine then. You should have said something sooner, Kendou-chan!" He arranges his notebooks in a neat pile upon his desk, changing the subject with ease. "Do you want to grab some breakfast? I need some caffeine in my system."

"I don't mind, but – _Wait._ _Boss._ We have more important things to worry about – How is everything _fine_?"

His smile grows. "All we have to do is get Kacchan out before they transfer him, right? Problem solved." Izuku hums thoughtfully. "On second thought, maybe we should postpone breakfast, _hmm_? I should probably get going."

" _Alone?"_

"Well, seeing as how you're busy going on dates with that _boyfriend_ of yours –"

She flushes a bright shade of red that clashes horribly with her auburn hair. "It is _not_ a date, I'm just –"

It's always so easy to push her buttons. Izuku takes in her embarrassment with cold and detached amusement before waving a dismissive hand in her direction. "That's fine. Have fun on your nondate with your nonboyfriend Monoma. No objections here." His voice sharpens. "I'll go and get Kacchan _alone._ "

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His hands are sticky, stained red with blood. He wishes he'd worn his gloves today.

They've put Bakugou in a lightless place, stagnant and airless. Filth and despair seems to clog his every pore. He's grown used to spending a life in the darkness, but it doesn't suit _his_ Kacchan, a force larger than life, a typhoon that hates to be contained.

The corridor is about thirty yards long, with cells on both sides. Some are padded cells with an observation window, long and narrow like an archery slit; in the centre of the door. Others are standard prison cells, with a wall of bars opening on the corridor. Izuku is aware of figures moving in the cells, but he spares them nothing, not even a glance.

He could care less if they rot to death in here.

His objective is one person only.

Bakugou's cell is well beyond the others, facing only a closet across the corridor. It's the only one fortified with heavy double doors of iron and steel. They've spared no expense in keeping him locked up, it seems. Izuku presses the button beside the doors, waiting for them to hiss apart and announce his arrival.

The cell is spotlessly white and brightly lit. Izuku walks in, his footfalls the only sound in the otherwise silent room, and takes it all in with a contemplative hum. Heavy canvas webbing keeps Bakugou bound tightly to a thick slab of concrete bolted to the floor. Barbed wire rings his neck, his chest, his arms. Beneath the webbing he wears a straitjacket and leg restraints.

Up close, Bakugou looks fine. His hair still sticks up in messy, unkempt spikes; his face is pale, the stark absence of colour emphasizing his brilliantly red irises. His lips are chapped and his nose is pink. He raises his head and grins as Izuku approaches. His eyes run up and down Izuku lazily, like the stroking paws of a cat.

Izuku's answering smile is as sharp as the edge of a blade.

Bakugou's straightforward desire is enjoyable. No seduction, no pretence. His want is simple, and he does nothing to hide it or dress it under honeyed words.

"What took you so fucking long, _Deku?_ "

Even chained up and bound with all manners of tracking devices, Bakugou is still as cocky as ever. A mocking edge to his question, made all the more pronounced by the rasp in his voice makes Izuku's stomach flutter. It brings sex to mind. Extraordinary sex.

The thought of his Kacchan tied and bound up with a length of rope, spread out prettily on their bed, writhing and moaning Izuku's name over and over again, coming undone while Izuku pounds into him makes for a pretty picture, and sends a white-hot desire trammelling through Izuku's veins.

His lips are dry, so Izuku licks them before answering, "Sorry, Kacchan. It took me a while to bypass their security system."

"Heh?" Bakugou asks, teasing and mischievous, "The heroes gave you a hard time to save me, huh?"

Izuku's eyes darken with desire. Bakugou licks his own lips, mirroring his gesture from several minutes before, as though he _knows_ what Izuku's thinking. Kacchan's there. _Right there_. All perfect and gorgeous and smelling of soap and sweat. If they weren't hard-pressed for time, Izuku would be fucking Bakugou senseless here and now, hearing him scream and beg as his nails rake their way down Izuku's back –

"No, _no_ , don't worry about that." Izuku smiles angelically, in a way that completely dismisses the other's concerns. "Getting through their defences was actually _fun_."

Izuku bubbles out a laugh that's tinged with mania. He's lost count of the number of heroes he's killed, the wake of bodies he's left in his rampage; the only evidence he has is staining his hands, dripping and splattering onto the linoleum tiles in a soft crimson rain. "But Kacchan, saving people is what heroes do. And I'm _not_ a hero. Neither are you. We abandoned that title a long time ago, _remember_?"

"Oh yeah, that's right." Bakugou hums in approval, the sound as warm as bathwater.

It manages to bring a genuine smile to Izuku's face. Few things these days have the ability to make Izuku happy – and even now, Kacchan can still make him smile. It's something that hasn't changed from when they were kids, bright-eyed and young and _naïve_ , playing at being heroes with sticks and capes made of blankets.

Izuku isn't connected to these dreams on a personal level. Not anymore.

"I'm not here to _save_ you." Izuku purrs, leaning forwards to nuzzle his nose along the sensitive spot behind Bakugou's neck, so that his words vibrate into skin and bones. He can't make Kacchan scream his name yet; but hearing his sudden, sharp intake of breath is enough to satiate him. _For now._ "I'm here to pick you up."

It elicits a growl from Bakugou. "Quit teasing and just fucking kiss me already, Deku."

Izuku bites back his amusement, running his fingers through the sweat-damp roots of ash blond hair. " _Why_ , since you asked so _politely_ , Kacchan!"

Izuku knows he'll pay for it later, that he'll be reduced to a quivering, panting mess on the bed, begging to feel Kacchan's dick inside of him. But when Bakugou's pupils darken, Izuku takes a single sip of his arousal and finds it exquisite. That's enough teasing for today.

Chuckling lightly, Izuku leans forwards, mindful not to snag himself on the barbed wire. With another growl, Bakugou surges forward and kisses Izuku hard, bruising his lips. Izuku's hands twine themselves in ash blond hair, fisting it roughly, holding him in place so he can't turn away. He bites the tongue that Bakugou thrusts aggressively into his mouth, then his lower lip, tasting blood. Izuku sighs. A slow, hot trickle of arousal gathers deep in his bones.

"Let's go home, Kacchan," Izuku breathes against Bakugou's mouth.

"Yeah, but before that –" The cutting rasp to Bakugou's voice becomes more pronounced, and Izuku feels his stomach clench in anticipation.

" _Hm?"_ Izuku hums lightly, feeling a dark grin spread across Bakugou's lips.

" _Release me and let me burn this place to the fucking ground."_

It's incredibly easy to get Bakugou riled up, and each and every time, Izuku relishes the sight of it. A feral smile is stretched taut across his face. The sparks in his eyes fly into his darkness like fireflies down a cave.

 _God_ , how Izuku wants him. The craving hasn't gone away, not even for a minute.

" _Oh_ , Kacchan," Izuku coos, his fingers already making quick work of the wires and straps, "Stop being so charming, will you?"

* * *

 **A/N:** This was inspired by hanihana's wonderful comic on tumblr, and I hope I've done her art justice! If you haven't already seen the villain! katsudeku AU, you totally should. Favourites and reviews will fuel me to write more! That being said, this is my first time writing katsudeku (let alone in an AU setting), and I hope I haven't made them too OOC!


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